An important part of enjoying a visit to The Woods, or anywhere else outdoors where one might go to seek solitude and appreciate the wonders of wild places, is taking the time to sit still and let the site's peacefulness flow into you. One of the reasons relatively few people do this is that they see "woods time" as "recreation time." To them, that means nearly constant physical activity, whether hiking on a trail, actively looking for birds, or reaching the top of the mountain by lunchtime.

A second reason, I believe, is that most people simply don't know how to make themselves truly comfortable when away from their plush, heated (and now cooled) car seats, their La-Z-Boy recliners, and the oversized and overstuffed mattresses on which they sleep. Some outdoor enthusiasts have even taken to carrying portable chairs with them when they go outside, or at the very least an inflatable sit-upon.

I have finally come to the conclusion that I need to explain how to construct what I call a "day-nest," which is just a temporary ground-level seat from which one can enjoy one's surroundings in total comfort. Like all good thing these days, a day-nest is ideally constructed from locally available, organically-grown, and recyclable materials. For example, the day-nest I am sitting in to write this essay is composed of about a dozen Douglas-fir boughs, each about two feet long, that I snapped off from the lower branches of the ten-year-old fir trees that surround me. (Yes, it's okay to do this, in my opinion, when away from trails, as I am, where others are unlikely to follow anytime soon. And within a few years, the lower branches of these young firs will die anyway, as they become shaded out from the developing tree canopy above.)

I've placed the boughs in a roughly oval area, with their butt (broken) ends facing outward, and the soft tips facing the center, where I'm sitting. By choosing to use a conifer for my day-nest, I also know that it will smell oh-so-good, both from the sap at the snapped-off ends, as well as from the needles that are gently crushed as I snuggle into my nest. other appropriate and readily available materials in western Oregon, although not as fluffy as fir boughs, are Pacific sword-fern fronds, the boughs of both western hemlock and western red-cedar, and the luxuriant epiphytic mosses that festoon the easily-reached branches of shrub-like vine maples in local forests.

Besides being built of clean and comfortable materials, that will also keep your clothes or body from contact with moist ground during the wet season, some of the other attributes of the perfect day-nest include:

· A slightly concave spot, or depression, where one's derrière will be

· Something behind the day-nest to afford a feeling of security, so one cannot be "surprised" from behind (this might be a boulder, a stump, a tree trunk, or a shrub)

· A nice view, either off into the surrounding forest's undercanopy down into a valley, up a stream, across a meadow, etc.

· A somewhat inclined area behind the concave spot onto which one might easily lower one's bak to take a nap, or to look up into the sky and watch the clouds go by, or up into the forest canopy and watch the tree-tops sway in the breeze.

If it's a wet day, it's nice to place your day-nest at the base of a young conifer or a well-branched strub, so an umbrella, one of Whitey's Ten Essentials, can be positioned directly above you among the overhead branches, to keep you dry. I also carry with me year-round a small (a foot square or so), half-inch thick insulite pad (or "sit-upon") and a forest-green wool blanket, both of which ameliorate my day-nest comfort considerably when it's wet or cold.

Although some people are accustomed to sitting on logs or on stumps when taking a rest while out-of-doors, those options just aren't the same as a day-nest. For one thing, those seats are hard, compared to the ground. And their elevated position is too similar to a chair to provide the comfort, and the possibility of reclining, that a day-nest on the ground does. Having taught field classes for many years for students of all ages, including quite a few over age 70, I am aware that getting down to the ground and then up off the ground again can be more difficult for some older folks. But you just need to know how to do it: Once down, instead of trying to push off the ground and stand straight up, simply foll onto your side, then arise, one body segment at a time, first torso, then hips, then legs, or ask someone for a little help. I realize, too, that some older people just don't like sitting on the ground, period, it's simply an uncomfortable position. So save the logs and stumps for them!

As for me, even though I'm nearing the end of my sixth decade, I spend as much time as possible when out-of-doors in day-nests of my own creation, some of them re-used (and freshened up with just-picked boughs) dozens of times over the years. Many of our closest simian relatives, for instance, chimpanzees and gorillas, make new day-nests daily, where they either nap or just rest between foraging trips.

The perfect day-next is simply a comfortable and secure spot, slightly improved with appropriate vegetation, in which to happily while away some of one's brief time on the planet.

Whitey Lueck
In the West Cascades
5 November 2010